


the moon will help you remember

by tenienteross (ada)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bloodline references, Character Death, F/M, Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 17:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14477220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ada/pseuds/tenienteross
Summary: “I didn’t attend her wake.” No, he didn’t. The scars from Crait were still fresh when it happened. “Another thing to regret.”“It’s never too late,” she states, grazing the side of his hand. Ben blinks and swallows. They both know that lesson very well.-Two years after the death of Leia Organa, Ben and Rey travel to the Alderaan system.





	the moon will help you remember

**Author's Note:**

> I'm picturing a post-episode IX scenario where Ben and Rey are traveling around the galaxy, studying ancient Jedi lore and helping people a la knight errants. And Leia died from natural causes after The Last Jedi, due to her exposure to space and the damage it caused her.

Alderaan rings like a roaring in the Force. A blaring buzz that pierces her mind as the freighter approaches the asteroid field. Rey shuts her eyes closed after they leap out of hyperspace, taking a deep breath. There’s a tremor, followed by a well of pain and sadness. It’s not far away, and she knows the source. Opening her eyelids slowly, Rey turns her head to the right. 

Ben is glaring at the emptiness of deep space, filled with the remains of an unknown home. There’s a profound expression on his features. His lower lip trembles timidly, his nostrils open up. They don’t talk, because there’s no need to.

Exhaling, Rey throws a glance at the void left by Alderaan in this corner of the galaxy. Neither of them was born in a universe where Alderaan survived, yet there’s a sense of reverence in their shared silence.

There’s also the memory of a woman. 

A memory that has brought them to this exact place.

-

It’s night time in Tython and the stars shine starkly against the deep hue of dark blue. Her limbs are bit sore from their daily expedition to the old Jedi temple, but Rey feels accomplished. She’s lying on the fresh grass, staring at the canopy of stars above with a renewed sense of wonder. The feeling is familiar, and it happens every time they travel to a new planet or moon. Rey doesn’t tire of being in awe. Jakku’s sky is a distant memory now, replaced by the tens of planets she has seen firsthand.

It fills her with warmth and quiet joy—she’s not gazing at constellations alone anymore.

“It’s been two years,” Ben whispers, lying beside her. 

“I know.”

Rey doesn’t say more, she just waits. Her eyes remain fixed on the stars, but her left hand moves closer to him. He heaves.

“I didn’t attend her wake.” No, he didn’t. The scars from Crait were still fresh when it happened. “Another thing to regret.”

His pile of regrets only grows larger, no matter how many good actions he takes to balance things out. This is the path he has chosen and it hurts—and it’s the right one. They both have their burdens. Now they can share them, at least. Rey finds a measure of happiness in that thought. Ben does too. 

Leia’s passing is a burden they have in common, but Rey can only attempt to image how Ben is actually feeling. It was a painful loss for both, but of an entirely different nature.

“It’s never too late,” she states, grazing the side of his hand. Ben blinks and swallows. They both know that lesson very well.

She senses sudden resolve in him.

“We could travel to the Alderaan system,” he makes a pause, turns his head to face her. “Would you like to… come? I know we haven’t finished here in Tython, so…”

“I’ll go with you,” she nods, determined.

Ben covers her hand with his palm, weaving their fingers together. It sends thrills through her nerves, the same flash of sparks and electricity.

They are not alone. They won’t ever be alone again.

-

The dice look smaller on his large palm. They are a golden sparkle among the dirty grey of the Falcon—a memento of happier, more simple days. Ben has been telling her about his childhood, just snippets and brief memories. It wasn’t easy, but it was healing.

The Falcon’s engines are off, floating in space at a safe distance from the asteroid field. When Rey looks at it, she finds it difficult to remember this is a graveyard. But it is, and that’s why they are here. To pay their respects. 

She glances at Ben. _To apologize._

Standing in front of the starboard airlock, Ben takes a last look at the dice before closing his fingers around them in a fist. His eye twitches, and Rey can feel all his emotions simmering underneath as if they were a storm in the Force. She takes a step closer, placing her hand on his forearm.

Ben looks down at her with that raw intensity in his brown eyes. Rey nods, he sucks in a gulp of air. 

Finally, he places the dice in a thin slot in the airlock’s door, closing the lid after they disappear. After pushing a nearby switch, they hear the sound of depressurization. Then nothing.

They walk in silence back to the cockpit. 

“I think they would have appreciated this,” Rey says quietly.

“He would have laughed,” he remarks. “But I can’t make it worse, I guess.”

The dice appear from the corner of the viewport, drifting and glinting among the stars. They float towards the asteroids little by little, drawn to them like a magnet, until they vanish in the immensity of space.

Rey wants to believe this truly means something. That they are somehow reunited. The princess and the scoundrel, where it all began.

One tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it rapidly, because this is not her time to cry. It’s his. When she looks up at Ben, his eyes are red and wet, his lower lip shivering.

She rests her head on his shoulder, locking their hands together. The touch makes the Force vibrate around them. Rey senses something else, an image imprinted in her mind. 

A memory that doesn’t belong to her.

It’s dark. There’s a little boy tucked in his bed, a bush of shining black hair peeking up from the blankets. Sitting beside him there’s are woman and a man hovering over them. She’s caressing the boy’s tiny hand, the man gazes at them with sheer love in his eyes. 

Then the woman starts singing the soothing rhymes of a lullaby, and it’s the most beautiful sound Rey has ever listened to.

_Mirrorbright, shines the moon, its glow as soft as an ember_  
_When the moon is mirrorbright, take this time to remember_  
_Those you have loved but are gone_  
_Those who kept you so safe and warm_  
_The mirrorbright moon lets you see_  
_Those who have ceased to be_  
_Mirrorbright shines the moon, as fires die to their embers_  
_Those you loved are with you still—  
_ _The moon will help you remember_

The memory fades away, bringing her back to the Falcon. She feels Ben’s body shaking, the muffled sounds of his weeping. The hold on his hand tightens, and she takes a deep breath.

Then Rey starts singing.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Mirrorbright_ is a traditional Alderaanian lullaby that shows up in Claudia Gray's _Bloodline_. I am 99% sure she sang it to Ben when he was little *heavy crying ensues*.


End file.
